Don't Feed the Yao Gui
by coreyjotunn
Summary: The story of Morgan, the Lone Wanderer from Vault 101. [This is written from a point with all DLC's.] Brotherhood of Steel, the Rangers, all these little groups and people out in the Wasteland counting on him to do one thing or another. But didn't they understand that the Wasteland was his home? The only place for him.
1. Going Super-Nova

_I don't want to set the world on fire..._

Morgan woke up from his dream, nightmare or pleasant he really couldn't tell. The fetid air of Megaton was all he could smell, all he could taste. Hands fumbled at a bedside table until they located a pack of cigarettes. He tapped the bottom of the pack, one of the orange filters popping up just enough for him to grab it with his teeth and pull it out. The moment he lit it, Nova stirred next to him. She opened her lips, eyes still closed. Laughing softly, he took a deep drag from the tobacco, then held it to her lips until she took her own. He remembered the anger that Sarah had spoken with when she found at that he smoked. Someone who wore the power armor of the Brotherhood shouldn't have such a vice, and besides, smoking was hazardous to his health! She had said something along those lines, and he couldn't help but laugh at her. They lived in a nuclear wasteland, a place where to leave the relative safety of a city, you had to take a gieger counter with you. And she wanted him to be worried about the hazards of smoking?

He was brought back to the here and now with a bite to his back. Nova smirked when he yelped, scowling at her, but he didn't stay mad at her for long. She didn't require much from him, just 120 caps. But that didn't mean she didn't care for him in her own way, and she worried about him, when he went all off into the space of his own head. Or at least that's what she'd told Gob, and that Ghoul could never keep a secret from Morgan. He had spilled his guts (thankfully not literally) as soon as he had seen him after she had said it. Not that Morgan minded that much. She didn't bother him, didn't want him to change, she just wanted him with her when he was with her. Not out there.

But that's where he always was. The Wasteland. From the radiation craters out by the Potomac, the metro system of DC, hell, even the area around the Citadel, he was always thinking about the Wasteland. Jericho had said it best. He had said that, _'Morgan doesn't live in any town or house. Morgan stays there. He lives out in the Wasteland. That's his home.'_ Gob had told him about that to. It was amazing how friendly the ghoul was. Probably because Morgan was nice to him, and took little messages between Carol and Gob. He'd even offered to pay off Gob's debt and escort him to the Underworld, but Colin wouldn't have anything to do with it. Said that Gob's debt would be paid when it was paid. So that probably meant that Gob'd be free when Colin finally croaked. Hell, the ghoul probably wouldn't even leave then. Just throw his name up on the bar and keep running it like nothing ever changed. And that was the real truth of the Wasteland, wasn't it? Nothing ever changed. Three Dog kept yelling on the radio, Gob kept selling drinks, the Church of the Atom kept standing around the bomb, and Nova kept charging him 120 caps every time. Everything stayed the same.

He tapped his smokes again, taking out another. Might as well let Nova have the first one. She was going to be mad at him today, but the carton he was going to leave her would soothe over her anger a little.

"So sweetheart, what's the plans for today?" She asked him as she blew out smoke, sitting up with her back against the headboard. He couldn't help but stare at her a little when she did. The sheets had pooled around her waist, but she was as naked as the day she was born from there up. Morgan had only seen one naked woman before he came out of the Vault, and then when he got here and Nova had told him about her little rate and bed, he had jumped right on it. He still did, rather frequently. As long as he had the caps and she had the time.

"Goin' up to Rivet maybe. Or up to Underworld. Gob's got a letter for Carol that I told him I'd run for him."

As predicted, her pretty little lips curled up in anger, and her eyebrows come together to. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, trying to cut the storm off before the clouds even had a chance to boil over.

"You know that Gob misses her, and it ain't right that he don't get to talk to her that much. And since I'm th' only one who's willin'..." She snorted again, turning away from him.

"I just don't understand why you think you have to be his personal mailman. Or go to Rivet so much. You have someone up there too?" She got out of bed, letting her sheets fall, and crossed her arms and stared away at the wall. "If that's what it is, that's fine, I still take work when you're not here, so it doesn't really matter to me if you're fucking someone else. Just don't lie to me about it."

Morgan shook his head as he got up from her bed, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her. He just stood like that for a moment, both their cigarettes trailing smoking up into the air, and both were quiet. When she finally loosened up and leaned back into him, he spoke.

"You know, and I know, that I ain't got anyone out in Rivet City. I damn sure don't have anyone in the Underworld, and I don't have anyone in any of the other places I go to. We ain't exclusive, like you said, but I ain't out there slingin' everythin' I got out over th' Wasteland either."

She made a disgruntled noise, shifting so that more of her body was pressed against his. "You're going to go back out there, and come home like you did after Paradise Falls one of these days, I just know it."

He stiffened. He didn't like talking about Paradise Falls. They had laced him up good and tight with every bullet a man could think of at that damn place. But he had been okay for long enough to at least get back to Megaton. True, he had collapsed on the Sheriff as soon as he came through the gate, but Doc Church had fixed him up just fine. Fine enough that he had went back to Paradise Falls and given them their bullets back over a few brats from Little Lamplight. That lil' bit had made Three Dog go crazy on the broadcasts, calling him everything but the damned Messiah of the Wasteland. That was another reason he wanted to go to Underworld. GNR's studio was just a hop, skip, and a jump away, and he wanted to tell Three Dog to calm it down just a bit. It was getting out of hand.

"I was fine. Doc fixed me up, I was back on my feet in a few days." He took his cigarette in between his fingers so that he could lay a small kiss to her neck. "Takes more than a couple of slavers to kill me. Hell, the Yao Guai's ain't done it yet either."

She didn't speak, choosing to turn instead, tossing her smoke and his into the ashtray besides the bed. She smiled at him, pushing him back down onto the mattress before straddling his hips. Her hand reached down in between them, grabbing him, and she kissed him, smiling as she spoke.

"Then I better give you a good enough reason to make sure you don't let them kill you, huh sweetheart?"


	2. Anything Goes!

_I guess anything goes!_

* * *

Morgan sat in the chair, watching as Mei Wong sat up the equipment he had taught her how to use. There weren't many tattoo artists out in the Wastelands, but he had helped her start up her own little shop here in Rivet City. She had a steady hand, was a decent artist, and was almost anal about keeping her equipment as clean and sterilized as possible. Maybe because it was her thing, something that was a way for her to remain free, and a way to remind herself she was free. It didn't really matter to him. As long as she kept her kit clean, and kept giving him ink work for free, then he didn't really care. It was a nice arrangement. No one knew why, it was a secret shared between them. Just Morgan and Mei, well, and Sister's corpse. But he wasn't telling tales out of school any time soon. and neither were they.

"So what's it today Morgan? 'I am the Messiah'?" She laughed as she said it, but all he felt was a sour taste in his mouth. He was so tired of that attitude. He had even stopped off at GNR while heading to Carol's place, and Three Dog had all but refused to stop. He said it gave people hope. Morgan didn't really give a shit that it gave people hope. It made people hire mercs to kill him, and it made slavers come after him for the credits they could get off selling him to someone. He was tired of that, and had wanted Three Dog to understand that. He hadn't been out of the studio three minutes before that bastard was telling more stories about his exploits. But at least he had told them he was out West in the mountains. Maybe that would keep them off him for a while.

"I thought we'd do somethin' right here." He pointed to his throat, right over the little ditch of his collarbone. "I want Revelations real small, and then 21:6 right under it. Think you can do it for me?"

She looked at the area, squinting one eye before sucking on a tooth. "Lemme draw it, then we'll see how you like the sizing, kay?"

He nodded. That was fine with him. He'd want to see what she was going to do before she did it anyways, make sure the style was good for the surrounding tattoos as well. She was finishing up his throat and neck with this one. One of the first she had done was on the nape of his neck. All lined up nice in a row, a little 5mm cartridge and bullet, a 5.56 bullet, and a 10mm. The banner above them just said 'Wasteland', the one below them saying 'Justice'. That was about all he used. A little 10mm pistol for quick work, the one he had been given by Amata as a matter of fact. The 5.56 went to his Chinese model rifle, which he used quite often. Then the 5mm went to the Minigun he had scavenged off of a Enclave soldier a very long time ago. Those were the 'hands of justice', at least that's what Paladin Tristan called them, and he had certainly reached out and touched enough people with those hands.

The side of his neck, from earlobe almost to where she was going to be working, was odd. Both had similar tattoos, crossed hands like they were praying. One side had what was obviously a man's hands, down to slightly hair knuckles. The other side of his neck had a woman's hands, nails painted red and a diamond ring on her finger. The were both held like they were praying for something. The male hands had an 'Alpha' symbol, looking like it was carved into them, blood flowing from the edges of the wounds caused by whatever knife had carved an 'A' into their skin. The folding hands of the praying woman were similar, but instead of a carving, her hands looked like they held a brand, the 'Omega' symbol looking like it was truly burned into the hand that looked like that of a woman. And with this piece, it'd be done. His little tribute to his parents. The Alpha and the Omega, who had worked to pour a river onto the people at least. The water of life, for each and everyone, given freely. Amen.

Mei showed him the design, and he liked it. Then she gave him a smoke break. She knew that he liked to get a little bit of a smoke in before getting tattooed, since he never wanted to take a break. If her hand could take holding the tattoo machine, then he could take sitting there and getting tattooed. You just gritted your teeth and went for it. So now he was leaned up against the railing, watching some ruckus down at Flak 'n' Shrapnel that he couldn't give two shits about. GNR was playing on his Pip, and then Three Dog said something about some Ghouls and a tower. Now, he had heard him talking about this before, but he had been so busy with everything else he had never thought to check it out. But he wanted to do something. And as far as he knew, that was about the only thing to do right now. Oh, he could go back to Bigtown, see if they'd still been having Super Mutant trouble, or Slavers, and then he could clear them out of them, but then he'd have to deal with Bittercup. Contrary to what he told Nova, he had spent at least one night with the death-obsessed Wastelander. Sometimes he got drunk with Shorty and Red and then when he woke up she'd be besides, scratch marks down both their backs and bite marks all over her. So maybe he did sleep with her. But it was never good enough to remember, and the swag she gave him just wasn't good enough to justify it.

Mei started on the tattoo, and he sat quietly in the chair. That's where he'd go. Tenpenny Tower. See what was going on with the ghouls. Maybe he could help one of the groups out. Maybe even both of them. If not, depending on who he sided with, he'd get to explore a bit, maybe get into a firefight. He didn't really care for them, but sometimes you just needed one. That's what the Wasteland did to you. Developed your base instincts into something a bit more. Fighting, fucking, fleeing. Didn't matter. You eventually got sharper, with more desire for at least on of the three. Usually, if you didn't, you ended up dead. Not so much the fucking one though, though it did help out sometimes when dealing with female raiders. But usually that one just sent you into the cities to find a woman. Like Nova. But Morgan had the trifecta. There had been only one woman for him for most of his teenage years, and then he had come out to the Wastes, and it was like the desires for his baser instincts had grown. Now he 'knew' a couple women that way, and that was fine with him.

Probably so irradiated in his sperm that any kid of his would be a super mutant, no matter how much Rad-X he took at this point. But that was what it was. The Wasteland would give, but it would mutate the fuck out of you and your kids just as quick. And he was the one that kept going out there. Mei stopped the machine for a moment to wipe away excess ink, and Morgan closed his eyes to wait for her to finish. And then he was going to march right out there into the Wastelands until he got to that Tower, and did whatever needed to be done there.

And if he found a woman who liked his look and was willing, then he was going to do that too. Life was too short not to.


End file.
